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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25725328">hold on to the night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blake/pseuds/Blake'>Blake</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works &amp; Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>...gimli can you come with me please?", Blindfolds, Lothlórien, M/M, Missing Scene, PWP, Sensory Deprivation, So much smut, just Gimli and Legolas being inappropriate as usual, leggy humping the forest floor, legolas aka mr "sorry I can't translate that lament for Gandalf right now I'm too busy., maybe I should tag, um they've been dating since Rivendell btw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:34:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,422</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25725328</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blake/pseuds/Blake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Aye, it does look as pretty as I imagined,” Gimli says in an aside clearly intended for Legolas to overhear.</p>
<p>“What does? The blindfold?” Legolas’s surprise makes itself known in a laugh.</p>
<p>“No.” Gimli pushes some hair that was displaced by the blindfold back behind Legolas’s pointed ear, the gentleness and reverence of the touch sending a shiver through him. “I mean the sight of you, frustrated, struggling to find your bearings, and denied that which you most acutely desire.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gimli (Son of Glóin) &amp; Legolas Greenleaf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hold on to the night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! Okay, so I've been writing this long book-canon fic following the actual events of how Gimli and Legolas, driven mad with UST after 2 months in Rivendell where they simply cannot find a place to fuck, decide to join this "fellowship" so that they can finally have some fun! And then find out along the way that their love has to be fought for and that it's worth fighting for.</p>
<p>But I got so inspired by this one part in Lothlorien (and indeed decided that they have so MUCH sex in lothlorien that I can spare a PWP on the side and still have plenty to write about in my longer fic) that I made this one-shot!</p>
<p>This story refers to events upon their entry into Lothlorien, during their 2 days of angst and miscommunication, before they start fucking like rabbits: <b>Haldir says Gimli has to be blindfolded; Gimli says that's racist; Aragorn says how about we all wear blindfolds so that it's not racist; royal brat Legolas says bUt THat'S noT fAiR I waNt To looK aT tHe tReEs!</b> I thought there would be a ton of blindfold fic on here already but I couldn't find any, so here we are! More E rated content for the pairing tag!</p>
<p>Thanks, Jen, for the edit!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They’re in the middle of a kiss that Legolas thinks is going rather well. Extremely well. His knees dig into the earth, his hands into the thick muscle of Gimli’s back. The tongue in his mouth sweeps through him expertly, hot and sure as breath, lighting up a jagged vein of desire down his body from his throat to his cock, and he’s struck by the thought that this newly found center of him understands how ore feels in its humble rock, rendered and known only by its miner.</p>
<p>They haven’t exactly talked about it yet, but Legolas thinks Gimli might be the love of his life.</p>
<p>“Please,” Legolas gasps in frustration, tearing at the clothing separating his hands from the taut skin he <em>knows </em>is there, he touched it only hours ago.</p>
<p>Gimli pulls back and sets his lips to Legolas’s hairline, a strangely intimate heat. Legolas breathes in the warm, oily smell of the beard scraping against his face. “Please,” he repeats, since he is receiving no help with disrobing. Dwarves wear so many frustrating layers.</p>
<p>“Oh, so <em>now </em>the elf finds the strength for courtesy and pretty words.”</p>
<p>Strong hands wrap around the base of Legolas’s skull and his jaw, a near-complete circle, thumbs resting at his chin, <em>almost </em>near enough to lick. The kisses at his temple continue as Legolas pushes forward until the backs of his hands scrape against the mallorn tree behind Gimli.</p>
<p>“I do not know to what you are referring,” Legolas says, though in truth, he knows very little right now aside from the teasing shape of the braids in Gimli’s beard against his lips. He wants to take them between his teeth, but he doesn’t know if that would be crossing a line. There are so many things they have not yet had a chance to discuss.</p>
<p>One of the hands at his jaw moves away, and in its absence, Legolas feels like his head might tumble free from his neck. He can’t bring himself to care, for the darkness behind his closed eyes is growing darker as Gimli drapes something across his face. He opens his eyes to find that it’s one of the blindfolds they were forced to wear upon entering the Naith of Lorien. With a grunt and a frown, Legolas lets go of Gimli’s shirts to push the thing off.</p>
<p>Gimli smirks down at him, and suddenly, his earlier words have meaning. It is possible that, a few days ago, in his excitement to see the beauty of the Wood he had longed to set his eyes on for centuries, he had been less than courteous to his companion. It is possible that he had expressed it would be a fair trade for Gimli to be dragged blinded and chained through the Wood like a prisoner on account of his race so that Legolas could see the golden leaves of Lorien’s winter trees. It is possible that he responded a bit childishly when it was proposed that the entire company should bind their eyes to preserve their equity.</p>
<p>Now hardly seems like a good time to discuss his missteps. “I would have happily led you through the Wood,” is his only defense. “I hoped to hold your hand and keep you safe, so that you would not feel a prisoner.” If the setting were different—if they had not just been in the middle of kissing, with the kissing not going so well as it was—he would explain further, go into the details of the bargaining and defending he had done just to get Gimli past the borders, all because he badly wanted to keep the dwarf by his side. As it is, he just holds Gimli tighter, scraping his hands and forearms across bark to draw their hips closer. “I am sorry,” is all he can say as he stretches to rub his face against Gimli’s bearded cheeks and the smile-softened muscles beneath.</p>
<p>Gimli interrupts his attempts by putting the blindfold over his eyes again, fastening it so quickly this time that Legolas thinks it might be counterproductive to take it off. “Aye, it does look as pretty as I imagined,” Gimli says in an aside clearly intended for Legolas to overhear.</p>
<p>“What does? The blindfold?” Legolas’s surprise makes itself known in a laugh. It is irritating to have it on again, but if Gimli likes the look of it, he can muster up some appreciation.</p>
<p>“No.” Gimli pushes some hair that was displaced by the blindfold back behind Legolas’s pointed ear, the gentleness and reverence of the touch sending a shiver through him. Legolas knows, logically, that limiting one sense heightens the others, but he has never had such an urgent, enthralling demonstration of the fact. Not too awkwardly, he turns his head until his mouth finds Gimli’s wrist; he keeps his bite very gentle. “I mean the sight of you, frustrated, struggling to find your bearings, and denied that which you most acutely desire.”</p>
<p>Legolas might bite a little too hard at that. “You imagined such a sight? And found it pretty?” he asks around the mouthful of coarse hair and soft skin between his teeth. The thought of Gimli looking at him has stirred him beyond all reason since the moment they met, and the problem has only grown worse. </p>
<p>He can hear the smile in Gimli’s voice. “The thought of it soothed any sting inflicted by the indignity of being led by an elven stranger. I thought of little else on that journey, and thus it passed by happily enough.”</p>
<p>Although temporarily blinded, Legolas has finally gotten Gimli’s shirts free from their various fastenings. “And now we are here, and together, and <em>alone</em>, at last,” he says, both bitter and hopeful, for they have suffered much mutual frustration, yet have the immediate moment and the unknown future open before them. “So you need not deny me my acute pleasure any longer.” He bites his own tongue to muffle his moan when his hands finally clasp the strong, hairy, sweat-gilded pillars of muscle framing the indent of Gimli’s spine. He slides one hand down low enough to slip beneath Gimli’s belt to touch his fingertips to the crest of muscle that is ever so slightly softer than the rest.</p>
<p>“You may have any desire you can render without the aid of your eyes.” Gimli’s voice sounds tightened by desire, which has the inevitable effect of further stiffening Legolas’s cock where it’s pressed to the dwarf’s hip. In his opinion, keeping up with this conversation when they could be fucking already is more of a challenge than working without his eyes will ever be. Lovers meet in the dark all the time, so how could this be any different? If this is his punishment for his poor behavior the other day, he will gladly accept it and speak no more of his errors.</p>
<p>“That is not fair,” he complains mildly, trying to at least pretend that he feels the punishment of his sentence. If his wrists and feet were bound, or his mouth gagged, <em>that </em>would be something. But still, perhaps, not punishment. </p>
<p>“Just as it was not fair that you were denied the privilege of looking upon the Golden Wood—of Lothlorien, that is—for one whole day.” Legolas gasps in surprise when Gimli’s lips take his in a brief, swirling kiss before speaking again. “Alas, injustice yet prevails in this world.”</p>
<p>There’s the shortest moment of breath in which they both must be feeling the weight of that statement when applied to the wider world, the losses they have been dealt and the losses they anticipate., but Legolas chooses to leave that to the future and to embrace this moment between his hands. He smiles against Gimli’s lips and feels them follow suit. “It would be injustice incarnate for you to deny yourself the pleasure of what I have longed to give you since our meeting in Rivendell,” he says, the words heavy with beauty, longing, and truth in his chest.</p>
<p>Instead of asking what that might be, as he was meant to, Gimli simply presses a finger—the middle, it feels like—to Legolas’s lips and says, “It is as I said. Whatever you can do without your eyesight, you may have.”</p>
<p>Then he disappears.</p>
<p>Legolas lurches and lands with one hand braced against the giant tree. He was not at all prepared for that. “You would lower my inhibitions and then take advantage?” he accuses to the air where Gimli is surely close enough to hear, whatever he is doing away from the touch of Legolas’s body. Still on his knees, Legolas trudges forward a few paces.</p>
<p>“Injustice prevails,” says that lovely, sonorous voice to his right. He whips his head around to the sound and remembers that there was another tree in that direction, so he listens for the rustle of footsteps. It’s no use trying to hide his smile, though he would rather the pressing need in his trousers be the thing Gimli might observe and take pity on.</p>
<p>It is not the sound of footsteps but a breeze carrying the unmistakable scent of Gimli’s clean sweat that finally points Legolas in the right direction. He has only to spring to his feet and move forward two steps before capturing Gimli in his arms again. At his victory, Legolas melts deeper into his seat, lowering himself to rest back on his heels and holding Gimli fast so that he can bite the tender give of his burly chest through his shirt and work his way down.</p>
<p>“You would have me right here?”</p>
<p>Legolas feels the shame of the rebuke—had he placed them in a particularly obvious location where they would be observed? was the soil muddy beneath them?—before he recognizes its teasing tone. Their location is as safe as their last; Gimli made the comment only to make him feel the pangs of not being able to see, and it worked.</p>
<p>“I would.” Legolas lets himself sound petulant. Gimli’s cock is hard and twitching under his tongue, straining against his trousers as Legolas attempts to lick it free, tasting only cotton and cotton and more cotton until he swears he can detect a trace of salt and spice.</p>
<p>Gimli’s hands are in his hair again, but they’re not setting anything straight.</p>
<p>Blindly, Legolas fumbles with the ties of Gimli’s trousers. If only they had had the opportunity for more than stolen kisses and a handful of frantic, fumbling encounters before entering Lorien, then perhaps Legolas would have developed a better understanding of dwarfish fashion by now. His frustration tangles up with humiliation—for what elf cannot untie a simple knot—and so he only barely stops himself from pushing the blindfold off just to get the job done faster.</p>
<p>“Such a lost little princeling,” Gimli murmurs, too warm to be as teasing as his last remark. “Do you need me to show you the way?”</p>
<p>Legolas yanks a lace so abruptly that it breaks. Problem solved—at least that problem. The problem in his own trousers, the problem that he’s kneeling blindfolded, mouth flooded with eagerness to fill his throat up with the cock of a dwarf—an impossible, teasing, stubborn dwarf at that—those problems remain. They also make him feel happier than he has ever felt in his life.</p>
<p>Gimli hisses in pleasure when Legolas finally gets his cock free and sets the hot, smooth crown of it on the tip of his extended tongue. Greedy with taste and smell and <em>feel</em>, Legolas maps out the shape of every ridge, crevice, vein, slit, and curve with the kiss of his lips, with his tongue when he needs more. He suckles around the impossible wide flare at the head, which he already knows the sweet, fat choke of at the back of his throat and which he has already spent days dreaming of opening him up wide and driving jagged thrusts against his insides. Someday, he will have such a treasure, and it will be something to remember forever. </p>
<p>Salt spills out across his flattened tongue, and he hasn’t even gotten his lips halfway down Gimli’s shaft yet. Legolas tries to lick more of it out, following the taste to the clean-hot slit and marveling at the shaky shudders of Gimli’s stout legs under his hands. Moved, Legolas pushes the trousers down further so he can cup Gimli’s balls and feel the frantic twitching fill his palm as he finally sinks the sloppy seal of his mouth down most of the way.</p>
<p>“Oh—,” Gimli sighs, cutting himself off with a gasp as Legolas pulls up and descends again, sucking and licking as best he can with his mouth full of such girth. “You look—you should see yourself, with your lips so pink, stretched around my cock,” Gimli whispers, and Legolas can’t tell for whose benefit it is intended because the words seem to drive them both equally wild. Legolas moans through his mouthful of thick saliva and cock, imagining the sight Gimli must be seeing, feeling helpless in his blindfold to look up and see the expression on Gimli’s face when he looks down at him.</p>
<p>Gimli’s hand loosely fists in Legolas’s hair aimlessly for a minute, and Legolas thinks distantly of how filthy his swollen, filled mouth must look so close to his neat, clean braids. As Gimli tightens his fingers and pulls him in close by the grip, Legolas imagines how completely debauched and used he must look all at once. He imagines the black band across his eyes and how pitiful and hungry he must look, so eagerly trusting Gimli to control him in exchange for the joy of getting to suck his cock.</p>
<p>“Your moans are so lovely. Do you like that, lovely one?” And Legolas answers by moaning more heartily, picking up the speed of his mouth as best he can with Gimli’s hand half-controlling the movements of his head.</p>
<p>Legolas pulls off so that his lips loosely hold the tip of Gimli’s cock, keeping it from springing free. “I love it,” he mumbles before swallowing deeper. Between the short length of Gimli’s legs demanding a deep tilt in Legolas’s hips and spine to keep his mouth where it needs to be and the hard, meaty swell of Gimli’s gut threatening to suffocate him the closer he gets, Legolas has to bend his neck at an awkward angle to work his mouth all the way down, and the fact of it makes him tremble with pleasure. He feels more beautiful contorted into shapes around Gimli’s body than anyone else has made him feel before. He scoops his hips into an even lower dip and manages to rut his linen-trapped cock against the soft forest floor.</p>
<p>Gimli mutters more words, but the sentences come out fragmented so that only their intent, not their meaning, manages to meet Legolas’s blood-deafened ears. He’s too busy holding Gimli as deep in his throat as he can, pushing his lips in sweet, reaching pulses to roughly kiss the coarse hairs at the base, breathing in the salty tang of fresh sweat where his nose digs into Gimli’s stomach before he has to pull up for air. Groping for anything he can get, he furls the hand that’s cradling Gimli’s balls further and tucks his knuckles behind them, between the squeeze of Gimli’s thighs, where there’s a whole valley of dampened hair and soft skin to nudge gently against until his palmful draws even tighter. <em>Someday</em>, Legolas thinks vaguely, blind and incoherent with the lack of air.</p>
<p>At the gentle suggestion of Gimli tugging at his hair, Legolas pulls up again to suckle and lick at the crown and the mouthwatering vein running along the underside. Then, at the soft pressure of Gimli’s hand cradling the back of his head, Legolas closes his lips and moves up and down the shaft, working him hard and tight until it feels like a seam might burst and spill across his tongue.</p>
<p>But Gimli denies him such pleasure. At the last minute, he pulls Legolas back by his hair, fists his own cock with wet sounds that make Legolas’s mouth long to collect the saliva it left behind, and then goes still. Breathless, Legolas gasps in the empty air, waiting for the spurts he cannot see coming. The first he hears land behind him, then the second smacks him hotly across the cheek and jaw. He feels mad with being unable to predict the trajectory and intercept, then madder still when some lands across the blindfold, cruelly separated from his skin, just a dry pressure that could be so much more. At this point, he gives up on holding still for aim’s sake and lets himself resume rutting against the leaves between his twisted knees. Gimli finishes across his face, and Legolas almost grudgingly imagines what a sight he must make, streaked with white and grinding into the earth. If Gimli wants him this way, that’s well enough, but he could have at least let him taste.</p>
<p>He lets Gimli nudge him onto the ground, flat on his back, and when Gimli finally releases the knot securing the blindfold, Legolas’s vision is filled with the serene canvas of gold leaves and white branches above them. Closer than that, the flame of Gimli’s hair and the dark flush of his smiling face swim into view.</p>
<p>With some sweet, placating murmurings, Gimli begins to wipe his face clean with the corner of the blindfold. Thoroughly enjoying the attention, Legolas unfastens his own simple clothes and reaches down to pull and squeeze his leaking cock. Gimli looks pleased at that, and Legolas surges in contentment that he can finally <em>see </em>Gimli’s pleasure again: the way those dark eyes flash black and impenetrable when they look down his body, the way he worries his lips together so hungrily that they almost disappear under his beard.</p>
<p>“You look in need of a kiss, my pretty prince,” Gimli says fondly, bunching the used blindfold in his palm. Legolas parts his lips to receive the kiss, fairly certain that the taste of Gimli’s breath will be enough to send him off.</p>
<p>But instead of bending to his mouth, Gimli shuffles on his knees and lowers his mouth to the tip of Legolas’s cock.</p>
<p>With a deep, echoing groan, Legolas doubles the speed of his hand, growing painfully close, as though everything within him is aching to spill out into the sweet, hot mouth holding him tight and safe.</p>
<p>Legolas comes so hard he loses control of his spine, his neck snapping back so that all he can see is the sky of leaves above as he empties into Gimli’s carefully swallowing mouth. At some point, the gold leaves blur into a white that doesn’t fade until Gimli’s gentle tongue laps him clean and Legolas remembers that he is breathing.</p>
<p>Eventually, he looks down the length of his body to see Gimli’s spent cock still hanging from his open trousers; he’s almost disappointed by it, now that he can’t watch it while he’s about to come. “I suppose you will want me to drop you off to eat and sleep with the others, now that you have had your fun with me,” he says, though it’s all fondness and no bite. He sucks on his lip, watching Gimli tuck himself away and lace up. <em>Sometime soon</em>, he thinks, his whole body twitching pleasantly in aftershocks.</p>
<p>Gimli finally places the kiss on his lips that Legolas had been expecting minutes ago, and Legolas moans at the taste of those plush lips. Any thought of leaving is forgotten for as long as it takes for them to kiss until they’re breathless again.</p>
<p>Gimli rests his forehead on Legolas’s and looks into his eyes. “Yes, until the next time you awkwardly show up to our camp asking specifically for me and not explaining to anyone why you want to show <em>me </em>the sights and no one else.” Sitting up, he offers Legolas his hand and then pulls him up with a strong, easy grip.</p>
<p>“I doubt they suspect a thing.” Legolas feels what might be a blush across his face as Gimli brushes the leaves from his head, combs his fingers through his hair, and twists his braids back into place. <em>I would have the whole world know my love for you,</em> he promises silently, for there are so many things they have not yet had a chance to discuss.</p>
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